When I Shoot, They Dance
by SilverBowtie
Summary: Khada and Jhin are two different men. Yet they are connected. Follow Khada's life of theatre, and Jhin's life in the Institute of War, as chaos and hijinx ensue.
1. A Master of Performance

**This is my second story, and I hope you all like, review and tell me how I'm doing. I'm open to suggestions, and I hope you like it.**

The theatre was dark. A man with a scar on his right eye stood ready behind the curtain.

 _1 2 3 4, 2 3 3 4, 1 2 3 4—_

"Khada are you alright?" the hushed voice of a young man asked.

"Huh? Yes, just uh… memorizing lines," the man took out a mirror from his robes. Khada stared at his own chiseled features, and stared at the milky white on his right eye. He wanted to shave his beard, maybe to a light goatee. That would look artistic. It would look… beautiful. He looked again at his eye, its light reflecting on the mirror. He used to hate that eye, the memory of the first time he picked up the blade. Sometimes the memory haunted him, the lotus blossom he stared at, his brother behind him, the trip, the fall, the blade piercing his eye. The accident. But that was over now. He liked the scar, the look. It was chaotic, and Khada was a strong believer in the idea that chaos was beauty.

"Break a leg Khada, this is your monologue," the man said.

The curtain went up as the lights turned on, and the stage was revealed. Khada stood there, mirror in hand as he glided a fake sakura tree center stage. There were traditional Ionian idols scattered around the set. There was tension in the air, this was Khada's moment, the lead roles big speech. This was everyone's favorite part of the play, and Khada knew he had mastered it. He walked in circles, stopping at each of the five idols, idols for the moon, the wraiths, the sun, the blood, and Khada's personal favorite, the lotus blossom. He threw his mirror onto the ground, and it shattered. The crowd held in their shock and terror as Khada stepped onto the glass shards, no shoes or socks. Khada was no longer Khada, he was the Great Elder of the Wind, and he did not feel pain.

"WHY DO YOU FORSAKE ME SPIRITS? WHY DO YOU STOP MY WILL!? Are you not things of the WIND? You kill my people, you cripple my students, and you bring me PAIN. You take out my eye, I dare not look at my mirror, for I know what I will see. A broken man, with a broken face, and a broken country," The Great Elder flourished to the idols with anger, hate, pride, and fear. The crowd saw it all, but only because Khada was acting. He _was_ the Elder, he _was_ the man who felt no pain. And he would see his will done. He grew quiet.

"You are things of the wind, spirits, which represent Gods, which represent nothing. I own the wind, I have mastered it, and you stop ME? You are my playthings. _You_ are my will. And I will destroy you, bringers of bad luck, spirits with no love for me or my people. I will destroy you. Not today, or tomorrow, but I will destroy you. Show me your strength, oh 'spirits of God,' you are not so great, you are things of the wind. You are nothing," suddenly, he was blown back, with more force than expected. But it all made the audience love it more, he had mastered his role, and he had wooed the crowd. The clapped, and laughed, and screamed, and waited for the next scene. Behind the curtain, they were making sure Khada's feet were OK, congratulating him. He grinned. But suddenly, the man that wished Khada well stared in shock.

"Khada what happened to you?"

"What do you mean Takeshi?"

Takeshi stared in horror, they all did, as the lights went up again. They saw his left arm, his left leg. Gone. They thought he was acting, when he flew back. He did, too. Suddenly, the painless bliss of acting left. Khada stared at his body, and screamed. And then laughed. So much chaos. So much… what was the way to describe it? Beauty.

Jhin woke up in his bed. He always hated that dream. He had so many dreams he hated. But he loved them at the same time. They made him who he was. And he was an artist. He shifted in his bed to the left, and maneuvered himself so he could put on his arm and his leg, they were made of pure Ionian Bronze. He got dressed, but didn't add his shoulder ammo clip, so he didn't have such a hunch. Most people didn't realize he could take his robotic parts off. He put on a grey t-shirt- much more comfortable than armour- and got his specialized one armed jeans. He looked like a regular guy, minus the eye and the cyborg parts. He put Whisper in his holster, and took his cane/gun attachment. He looked at his room, and smiled. He stared at the murals he himself had painted, the lotus blossoms on a tree and the blood splattered on it. It added chaos to elegance, beauty to more beauty. He stared at his marble countertops, and the porcelain white of the rest of his room. He closed the curtain around his bed, closed his closet, and looked in the mirror. He grinned at his tall, thin stature, his strong jawline, his chiseled face, and his silvery gray hair. He felt his goatee and walked out the door with a grin. He was magnificient.

People had grown used to Jhin, and Jhin had grown used to his audience. He had his hunger for perfection sated in his matches, and he was able to remember what friends were like. And some people understood his interests, Shaco, and Thresh. He had more friends, but they were close. A little… unsophisticated, but he was glad to be where he was. He walked down the bright halls of the Ionia and got to the elevator. He hit the number 2 button twice (it equals 4), and walked out into the hall. People waved hi as he passed, and he went to the breakfast side of the buffet. He took 4 strips of bacon, a fried egg, and a bowl of rice porridge. He sat at a table Vayne, Ezreal, and Thresh. He stayed quiet while eating, but finished quickly, he liked his conversations with these 3. They knew his struggle in the Bot Lane, and he was sure that Vayne had a thing for him. Too bad he was married to his work.

"Hey there Jhin, how was your last match?" Ezreal asked as he accidentally dropped his hash brown on to the blue table.

"Oh it was a wonderful performance, though Rengar seemed to have some beef with me," Jhin replied, tapping on the table rhythmically.

"Did you win?" Vayne took off her glasses and wiped them against her jumpsuit.

"Win? What do you mean win?" Jhin replied, confusion in his voice.

"Well, the goal of the matches is to win a conflict, and it's won by destroying the nexus. After everyone's had their fun, of course," Thresh said as he put a biscuit in his mouth, it disintegrated into green flame as he swallowed it.

"There's a goal to this stuff? I thought it was just… chaos." Jhin said, his eyes widening.

Ezreal shifted away and came back after a couple seconds. He had a Hextech Tablet in his hand, with a summoner's match history on it, "You see this Jhin? These are wins and losses, you're even in here, looks like you won the last game," Ezreal pointed to Jhin's mask on the tablet. Jhin stared in shock at Ezreal.

"I didn't even realize, this changes so many things. No wonder Riven got so mad when I wouldn't take that tower…" Jhin unholstered his gun and spun it around. Ezreal and Vayne shifted back in their seats, they knew how much Whisper hurt.

"Woah woah woah there Jhin, why are you taking that out?" Vayne motioned toward Jhin to put it down.

"No no no, don't be scared, She's not loaded," they all relaxed, "I'm just thinking, I should make this easier to take towers. Maybe the fourth shot should… crit them. Yes, that makes sense. I have to go, this was fun, see you soon," Jhin got up from the table and walked as fast as he could, but running was painful to him. He could only run when he fired, the beauty stopped the pain. That didn't matter right now. He had work to do.

"Jhin, wait up, I can help you with the mechanics," Ezreal shouted over.

"No, I don't need help. She is not a matter of mechanics, She is a matter of art," Jhin shouted back as he ran into the elevator. The three stared over at the elevator.

"I may be a sadistic, green ghost, but even _I_ think he's weird," Thresh said as he smeared jam on his biscuit.

Vayne and Ezreal looked at eachother and then the elevator again, "Agreed."

 **Hope you like it, tell me if you want more of a serious or a funny story. I'll be switching between Khada and Jhin, but there won't be a pattern with it. Please review/favorite!**

 **-SilverBowtie**


	2. A Captive Audience

**Thank you for all the support! I'm taking into account any reviews, so please leave one. The chapters will be short by the way, but that's just kind of my style. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Khada saw white. He saw nothing but a blinding flash, but it wasn't a flash. All he could see was white, it was like when he lost his eye. He screamed.

"NO! NO! NO! NO! I NEED THIS ONE! PLEASE, PLEASE I NEED THIS ONE!" He screamed because he felt a pain in his left side. He screamed because he might not be beautiful anymore. He screamed because he couldn't see if he was beautiful or not. Doctors rushed in, but Jhin didn't know this, not until he heard their shoes echo against the ground.

"It's OK sir, we're here to help, just stay quiet, it's OK, it's OK," a young woman said. Khada started to quiet down, until he fell asleep.

"Good job Akali, you seem to have good bedside manner," A man said.

"Thank you Shen, I am here to learn," the woman said back.

* * *

Jhin had his mask on. He was in his room, a workbench next to his bed. He had it just in case he broke his leg, but today was special. He had Whisper on the table, completely assembled, and he knew he was almost done. He had put a trap on the clip, his fourth shot would hit with more force, now. He just needed to reassemble and paint her again. Then, he would go to training room number four and test out his upgrades. He looked around his room, and realized he would have to repaint in a week. He liked to paint a new mural every four weeks, a new theme. This month was the lotus.

"Maybe my old brush, I haven't picked up a blade in years now. A mural to him would be nice," he said, thinking out loud. There was a knock on the door.

"Hey Jhin, can I come in?" Ezreal said through the door.

"Sorry Ez, I'm working right now, come back in 40 minutes," Jhin shouted back, shaking his head in disapproval.

"40 minutes? That's oddly specific. You know what, it doesn't matter. Just let me in, it's urgent," Ezreal knocked on the door again.

"Art must be patient, Ezreal. Come back later, we can go have lunch with Vayne or something," Jhin said, adding a fresh coat of paint to Whisper's handle.

"C'mon man, I don't want to have lunch. Stop being such a weirdo and let me in," Ezreal said.

"No can do. And if you try to bust in, I want you to think how many Lotus Traps I have in this room. I wouldn't want to make a performance out of you."

"Yes you would."

"That's not the point," Ezreal shifted into the room, knocking into Jhin, "Hey what was that! You'll mess her up!"

Ezreal stared around the room, looking in awe at the mural on the wall. He was amazed at how pristine the room was.

"Jhin, this is… amazing."

"Yes my art seems to have that effect on people, now what do you want Ezreal?" Ezreal hung his head and put his hands behind his back, "Why so glum?"

"I don't want to explain it right now, could you please come with me?"

"What could I do that could help you?" Jhin took his mask off and pulled down the cloth from his face. He brightened up," Oh my god, did you KILL someone?" Jhin hugged Ezreal, "I'm so proud of you!"

"No Jhin, I didn't _kill_ anyone. It's something different. And since when did you say _kill_?"

"I don't know if it's _art_ yet. For now I can just hope," Jhin said, giddily.

"You're so weird," Ezreal shifted out of the room and Jhin walked out behind him.

"You were the one who asked for my help."

They walked into the elevator, and Ezreal hit the number 5 button. Jhin stared at it anxiously.

"You want to press it again?" Jhin nodded vigorously, and hit the button 3 more times. He could finally relax.

"I swear Jhin, half the time you're a psycho murder artist, and the other half you're a _toddler_."

Jhin shrugged as the doors opened and they walked out, into the Piltover hall. The hall was cobalt blue, and each door had a champion's name on it. They waved to Caitlyn, and Vi glared as Jhin walked past.

"How's your eye doin' freak?"

"Oh go punch something you brute."

They stopped at Ezreal's door and he opened it. Jhin walked in, and screamed. He shreaked, an ear-splitting caterwaul that resounded across the Institute.

"EZREAL. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

* * *

Khada woke up again. It wasn't as bright as before, but everything seemed to have a bright filter over it. He wanted to tap on his left leg, to calm himself down. But he couldn't. Then he remembered. He didn't have a left leg. He didn't have a left arm, either. He looked to his side and saw his old friend, Takeshi. He had a cloth in his hand, and his eyes were red and puffy. There was an arrangement of flowers next to him.

"H-hi there… Khada," Takeshi struggled to get the words out. Khada blinked, and with the grimmest stare, he looked in his eyes.

"Did I perform well?" Khada croaked out.

A tear slipped from Takeshi's eye.

"You were more than perfection, my love."

"Am I alive?" Khada closed his eyes.

"Yes you are, good friend," Takeshi looked down at Khada's leg.

"When do I go home?" Khada looked at the flowers. There were four different types, roses, daisies, tulips, and lotus blossoms.

"I don't know, I don't know." Takeshi held Khada's shoulder, but he would not stop staring at the flowers.

* * *

 **Thank's so much for reading, a review is much appreciated. I know this was very Jhin oriented, but Khada will get his spotlight, and some questions will be answered. Bye!**

 **-SilverBowtie**


	3. Can I Live Without You?

**I'm very sorry guys, I know it's been literal months, but to be honest with summer and family I forgot I had readers, no matter how few. I'm going to try and write one chapter a week, probably every Friday, because I want to make it up to you guys. So please, keep up the reviews, I'd really appreciate them. Chapters will stay short as usual, but I'll probably add extra chapters out of schedule.**

* * *

"Hey man, I know it's a little uhh, well it's disgusting. But I need your help with something."

Ezreal's room was that of a slob, the usual purple and gold color scheme of the Piltover rooms was covered in brown clothes and ancient baubles. The whole room smelled like musk and sand. The bed was hidden under piles of black sheets and formal wear. There was a table in the middle of the clutter of useless awards bronze knick-knacks. Jhin nearly screamed. Again. He immediately ran out of the room.

"Hey uh Jhin, where'd you go, I uh, I need to ta-"

Jhin ran into the room with a basket, muttering under his breath, something about hell on earth. He started picking up dirty clothes, trash, anything to get the room in order. The hardwood floor started to peek through the mass of, to put it lightly, random shit. Ezreal sat back as Jhin limped through the room with surprising speed, he thought it best to just let it happen. There was no stopping Jhin at this point. He took what he thought were the clean clothes on Ezreal's bed, but finally stopped as he was bringing them to the closet he had uncovered during his frenzy.

"Ezreal, why are you trying these on?" Jhin held out the dress shirts and ties in his hand.

"Well that was what I was going to explain before your OCD kicked in," Ezreal gestured at the basket Jhin had brought in.

"You should be glad, this place was, hell still is, the second most disgusting place I've ever encountered."

"I'm not complaining, I was wondering if you could help clean up, but I needed help with," Ezreal looked away from Jhin, "I needed a help with a date." Jhin chuckled. Then he chuckled again, and then he laughed, guffawed. Jhin just couldn't stop. It was just, well it was just. Ezreal needed help from the so called "psycho toddler" with a _girl_. Ezreal glared at him, and Jhin composed himself.

"Oh I'd absolutely _love_ to help you with your date, your wish is my command," Jhin's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Fine, asshat. Just, finish cleaning, and then we'll talk."

Jhin laughed again, and started arranging Ezreal's little artifacts on his desk. He might as well relish this moment, for once he wondered if the pleasure of screwing with Ezreal was better than the cleaning. Ah, what was he thinking? The only thing better than cleaning was his art.

* * *

Takeshi was in the waiting room. He knew, Khada couldn't survive in daily life with half a body gone, but he knew he couldn't perform again. The best actor in all of Runeterra can't have a robotic limb, let alone two. Khada's talent, his hopes and dreams, all gone. As a friend, Takeshi would stay with him through this. And one day, when Khada had adjusted to life without his art, he'd find who did this to him. He'd bring justice, because no one deserves what had been done to him, especially a man like Khada. Suddenly, a wheelchair burst through the door, Khada and the nurse. What was her name again?

"Look, Takeshi I'm beautiful! Thank you, Ms. Akali, thank you so much! Takeshi I'm fixed, look at me!" Khada nearly squealed. Takeshi looked at him, but tried not to cry. This was not Khada… His face, instead of just a small scar, a gash on his scar nearly disfigured him, you could barely tell it was Khada. The long line, ran down on his chiseled features, scar tissue bulging from his jawline. It only got worse as he looked down. His right, seemed the same but his left side. A bronze mechanical arm, jutted out from his chest, which seemed almost like marble. It wasn't just an arm, it was like pistons, jutting out from him, like he was a machine. He had a cane next to him. Takeshi noticed him and tried to stay composed.

"You, you look," Takeshi felt wrong as the words passed through his lips," wonderful. Let's, let's see you walk." Khada looked up at Akali and she nodded. He grabbed the cane, and started walking, foot in front of the other, toes pointing forward. He limped as he did it, but there was no doubt. This was the same Khada. Something was wrong though, his eye seemed different, as if he didn't fell anything wrong. As if nothing had happened. Takeshi couldn't take it anymore. He had to get revenge. How had Khada become, this, this thing? He had to stay calm. Helping Khada came first. "When can he come home Ms. Akali?"

"Tomorrow probably, he's one of the fastest recovering patients. He even picked his own uhh," she gestured toward his leg. Takeshi lost it. He didn't want to hurt Khada, he couldn't. But he couldn't bear to look at him. He seemed blissful enough. Maybe he wouldn't notice-

"What are you thinking about Takeshi?" Khada stared at him. Something was wrong, he wasn't sure what. His operation had gone correctly, hadn't it? Did Takeshi not like his new self?

"Oh, no nothing Khada. I just, I'm going to the cafeteria I'll be back," Takeshi ran out of the room. Khada had the feeling he wouldn't be seeing Takeshi for a while as Akali wheeled him back in.


	4. sorry friends

**Sorry guys, my computer's been acting up. I've wanted to upload, but chrome, firefox, and internet explore just wont work. This is from a library computer, im desperate. I will return to all fics I'm currently working on, because next week my highschool's program is giving out Macbook Airs for the year. So, until next week. Toodaloo**

 **-Silver the Sorry Writer**


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